


(Un)breakable

by FairyLights101



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Canon Compliant, Crying, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 14:56:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10573608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyLights101/pseuds/FairyLights101
Summary: Arm wrestling champion of Seijoh, ace of the volleyball team, top bench press weight of the school, an unshakable smile - Iwaizumi is strong, there's never been any doubts about that. Not until he starts to break and realizes that, maybe, he isn't as strong as he thought.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Frenchibi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frenchibi/gifts).



> French, you're a super cool bean, and I wanted to write you a little something because you deserve some ~~bittersweet~~ feel goods! I didn't know what your favorites were, so I just went with this, but *finger guns* I hope you like ฅ(♡ơ ₃ơ)ฅ

During the day, he managed. 

He kept his composure. Held his head high and ignored the dark waters that sucked at him, trying to tug him out with their hidden currents to drown him underneath, hands stretching towards a surface light could hardly break through. During the day, he kept himself in check, made sure there was a smile on his face when classmates offered him treats, that the words that left his mouth showed no hint of the waters, let alone the gaping holes that riddled him, that every move and encouragement in practices had everything he could give. 

But that was during the day, when he had people to distract himself with, schoolwork to do, the exertion of muscles to focus on. 

Night was a wholly different beast, one that snatched him up and threatened to plunge him into icy, watery depths, no light whatsoever to guide him out. And it left him shaking, wheezing as he held himself with arms too frail, too fragile despite all the work he'd done lifting weights, doing pushups, arm exercises, spiking, despite the countless arm wrestling competitions he'd destroyed his classmates and teammates in. No, his arms were weak, his hands unsure, foreign and terrifying when the reality of it slammed into him. Even more so when the other things crashed in, suffocating with their cold, impossible weight. 

_ I'll never be good enough.  _

As a son, as a student, as an athlete, always good, but never  _ great,  _ never meeting expectations from everyone around him that only rose higher and higher the more he tried, even though he wanted nothing more than to lie down and just  _ give up.  _

_ He won't love me if he knows.  _

Even if Oikawa had his own demons, ones Iwaizumi had hauled him through time after time, it didn't matter, because  _ he _ was supposed to be the strong one, the unbreakable one, the unbeatable Atlas who held Oikawa's world up and waited on him with a smile and a kiss. Except being strong was what felt impossible, left him a little more hollow and broken as he dragged himself through the days, collapsed into his bed, tried to forget why he didn't want to exist. 

_ I hate this.  _

And yet, there he was, stuck in an inescapable loop of self-hatred, disgust, uncertainty, and a thousand other toxic, frigid things that sucked the air straight from his lungs, left him stumbling through darkness and into disaster. Iwaizumi dragged a hand down his face, aching eyes closing for a moment and holding there, as though that could take it all away, but even with his eyes shut and the world quiet, he could still  _ hear  _ the voices that clamored to be heard, could still  _ see  _ all the inescapable possibilities. 

_ Why can't there be an easy way to make this stop?  _

He opened his eyes, stared at the dimly lit ceiling, bone-deep lethargy holding him down, but not enough to make him succumb to sleep that would chase it all away, leave him blissfully blank for a few hours. One hand rose, fingers spread, palm to everything that lay above - house, sky, space, and, somewhere between  _ here _ and  _ nowhere,  _ maybe even God. 

_ This sucks.  _

His hand dropped back down, hit the bed with a thump too heavy for its size, and he closed his eyes again, let the ache that pulsed through his eyes, his throat, his chest swell up, indomitable. There was no court for this battle. No superhuman serves or familiar tosses, no one bending over to receive or rising up to block attacks like impenetrable walls. But if it was, he was certainly on the losing team, down one set and about to lose the second by a landslide. A soft, wry laugh bubbled out, broke the quiet, and he shook his head.  _ Good fucking luck.  _

A soft buzz made his eyes crack open and his head lolled to the side, found the clock on his desk. Almost midnight.  _ It'd be Oikawa.  _ Probably asking if he could talk about whatever was troubling him. And, even if Iwaizumi loved Oikawa so much that it left him dizzy and weak, that he would do anything for his best friend, his partner, it still took an obscenely long time to rise and grab his phone, the “day” side of him settling back in place as he opened the message. 

His stomach dropped out.

**From Oikawa:** **  
** **Hey, Hajime… I just wanted to know if you're doing alright. There have been a few times where I look at you during class or practice or going home n stuff where you just… look really sad**

**From Oikawa:** **  
** **I know it's hard, but I'm here to talk if you need it. I'm always here, because I love you, and I want to help you when you're down**

He couldn't breathe right, hands shaking as he stared at the texts. 

_ Lie.  _

The thought was instantaneous, disgusting in the sweet temptation that it carried. Lying was easy - he’d had far too much practice, too many opportunities to cover his problems under the veil of another’s, or other things. Iwaizumi sucked down a breath, bit his lips. 

_ Tell the truth.  _

The thought made him sick. What would Oikawa say? Would he  _ hate  _ him for lying so much? For being so weak? Or would he tell him that it was alright, that he’d get through it. Iwaizumi scrubbed a hand across his face and tapped out a message, sent it before he could second-guess himself.

**To Oikawa:** **  
** **don’t freak out** **  
** **i don’t wanna die… sometimes i just want to find an exit button**

**From Oikawa:** **  
** **…**

**From Oikawa:** **  
** **I’m on my way**

Iwaizumi dropped his phone, sucked down a harsh breath.  _ Fuck.  _ It had been a mistake, a big fat mistake, and now, no matter what he said, Oikawa would come, would clamber in through his window or let himself in through the front door - probably the latter since his parents were gone for the weekend. Iwaizumi bit his tongue, pain slicing through the slick, cold glaze of apathy, and he sat upright, sagging forward, head bowed. 

_ Do I even care anymore?  _ He wasn’t sure anymore - couldn’t even feel enough to be certain. 

He just held still for a few minutes before he rose on stiff legs and staggered downstairs, opened the door. Oikawa was halfway up the steps, eyes wide and trembling faintly as he froze, stared at Iwaizumi for a painfully long moment before he flung himself forward with a garbled excuse for his name. Iwaizumi managed to catch him, arms going tight around Oikawa as he staggered back. His friend didn’t seem to notice, sagging into him and burying his face into his shoulder as fluttering hands fisted into his shirt, clung tight to him. 

The scent of his shampoo, sweet and like coconuts, filled Iwaizumi’s nose, hair tickling along his cheeks. Fingers pressed into his spine, found dips and curves and squeezed in ways that no one else could. Warmth seeped in, a steady drip into his body that left Iwaizumi shaking, short-circuiting as he clutched at Oikawa.  _ This.  _ He could  _ feel  _ it - Oikawa’s heat, his heart, his trembles. And that left his throat even thicker, drier than before as they slumped into one another, arms inescapable, right until Oikawa pulled back and held him by the shoulders, working his mouth, all too obviously biting back tears as he searched for words. 

“Hajime.” 

His voice splintered on that, and Hajime felt himself shrink, unsure,  _ terrified.  _ “Oh… Hajime.” Oikawa leaned back in, wrapped him up in another hug, less desperate than the first, but no less firm, or full of love, and for a moment, Iwaizumi almost felt those cloying waters warm. A hand slipped down, tangled with his. “Let’s go to your room.” 

Iwaizumi grunted, let Oikawa nudge him in, lock the door, lead him through his own house until he was on his bed again, back to the headboard, legs stretched out, Oikawa straddling his thighs and playing with his hands - checking his skin. “I'm  _ fine _ ,” he mumbled. 

Oikawa pointedly ignored him, pulled his arms close so he could press his lips to the soft insides of Iwaizumi's wrists, kissing from palm to elbow on one arm, then the other. He pushed Iwaizumi's hands down, settled them on his thighs so Oikawa could reach forward and cradle his face. “Hajime,” he whispered, voice a little steadier, “Hajime… What's wrong?” 

A cold hand had his lungs in a vice-like grip, choking the air out of him, leaving him dizzy as he stared up at those frantic brown eyes, those wobbling, full lips. Lies bubbled up, died back as truths crept in, and both faded away, left him with something pitiful that lay between, not nearly enough to explain the  _ mess _ that lay inside, slowly wearing him down, eating him alive. “I don't know,” he said simply.

Oikawa swallowed hard, bit his lip. His fingers slipped along Iwaizumi's face, tracing his cheekbones, his jaw, the faint scar on his forehead. “Have you been sad?” 

He looked away. 

“Do you hate yourself?” 

He flinched, couldn't help it, and shrank in on himself. 

“Are you feeling overwhelmed?” 

He sucked down a breath, sharp in his throat and chest, and nodded. 

“Oh, Hajime…” Oikawa leaned closer, pressed their foreheads together, and an exhale shuddered across Iwaizumi's face, made something in him bend a little, things snapping and cracking inside as Oikawa pressed closer. “How long?”

“... Fall.” 

Oikawa stiffened, leaned back, fingers shaking as he guided Iwaizumi's face until they looked each other in the eye -  _ that _ made him break, chest hitching as he threw himself forward, buried his face into Oikawa's neck, clutching desperately at his jacket. “I-I don’t know,” he choked out, “I just…” 

It had all been  _ so much,  _ all at once. Creeping in, a slow, steady tide that had engulfed him before he’d realized the dangers he’d dismissed so readily for so long. He hadn’t wanted to believe, hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it, and by the time he had, he’d been too far gone, lost beneath the waves.  _ I don’t know.  _ He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to fix it, didn’t know how to make it any easier.  _ I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t want to scare you.  _ But trying to avoid that had only done the opposite.  _ How stupid can I be?  _

Iwaizumi shuddered, rubbed his face into Oikawa’s shoulder as hot tears spilled out, breaking through the dams and walls he’d desperately held in place for so long. Fingers trailed down his back, swept from shoulder to hip, soothing and slow as hushed words lapped against his ears, caught somewhere between crystal clear and incoherent against the pound of his heart, against hiccupping gasps and sobs. But, slowly, the words trickled in, scraping the veil back so he could hear as he quivered against Oikawa, fingers working and squeezing the skin of his back. 

“Shh… it’s okay… it’s okay, Hajime… I promise it’s alright… it’ll be okay. I’m here. Right here. I’m not letting go. I’m not going anywhere. Remember those breathing exercises? Can you do them for me?” 

He swallowed hard, nodded, pressed his face firmly into Oikawa’s neck and sucked down one breath, held it, then let it trickle out. Just like he’d taught Oikawa and walked him through a thousand times. “That’s great, perfect Hajime. Keep it up. Give me another, okay?” 

He nodded, drew in another long breath. He kept going, guided by Oikawa’s encouragements, led along until everything had seeped out, splattered all over the walls, Oikawa, his room, leaving him stripped bare and hollow. Iwaizumi slumped into him, drained, hands falling listlessly to the sides of his legs. Oikawa didn’t stop his rambling paths on his back though. He kept it up, slow and steady, almost rhythmic in how his fingers swept up, moved in arches, traced the ridges of muscles, and sank back down to fiddle with the bottom of his shirt before his fingers roved back up. 

“You’re okay,” Oikawa breathed, hands pausing to squeeze his shoulder. “Don’t you dare beat yourself up for letting all that out.” 

Iwaizumi shrugged. 

Hands cupped his cheeks, pulled his face up, and he found deep brown eyes waiting on him, tears spilling out from the corners, even as Oikawa smiled, shaky, his cheeks flushed and snot running from his nose despite his sniffles. “Don’t.  _ Please.  _ Hajime… oh, Hajime… I wish I’d seen it sooner. You deserve so much better. You’re always so strong, always trying to be the best, always giving so, so much. Hajime… Hajime, I know you can’t see it, but you’re so much more than what you’ve brought yourself down to think you are. I  _ promise.  _ You’re…” 

Oikawa sniffed, pulled one hand back to wipe his face. Iwaizumi managed a tiny smile. “You’re such an ugly crier,” he whispered. 

Oikawa choked on a laugh, nodded as he wiped the back of his hand on his pants and cupped Iwaizumi’s face again, hands so achingly soft, that smile so full of raw  _ grief _ that it snatched Iwaizumi’s breath away, hit him like a slap to the face and left him reeling as Oikawa leaned close, bumped their foreheads together. The scent of soap was fresh on his skin, melon-scented, and his still-damp hair brushed across Iwaizumi’s skin as Oikawa slowly shook his head, noses brushing. 

“I  _ love _ you,” he whispered, “And I wouldn’t love you, have loved you for so long, if you weren’t  _ phenomenal,  _ in every way. Even when you think you’re weak or not enough, you’re enough for  _ me,  _ and you always have been. I… I know that what I say isn’t going to change much. I know that it’s hard to believe me right now, to believe this will ever get better. But… it will. I promise. And I’ll be here with you every step of the way. Okay?” 

Iwaizumi bit his tongue. Closed his eyes and sucked down a breath as shaking hands rose, curled into Oikawa’s hair and hung there as he bit his tongue, fought for words. They were slick, slipping through his grip again and again, leaving him coming up empty over and over until, _ finally,  _ they settled into his hands and he held them tight, unwilling to let go. “Okay,” he breathed. “I… it’s hard. And I’m just… really tired of this. Of doing it alone. But… thank you.” 

Oikawa’s breath hiccupped, somewhere between a laugh and a quiet sob as he leaned forward, brushed his soft lips to Iwaizumi’s chapped ones and held there, both of them shaking and holding each other tight before Oikawa leaned back, just enough to whisper against his mouth. “I love you. Really. Every bit of you. All your flaws and strengths - I love it, because that makes you  _ my _ Hajime. You’re my best friend, my boyfriend, my  _ world,  _ and I wouldn’t trade you for anything.” 

“Funny, because I was sure you’d trade me for Ellen Ripley in a heartbeat.” 

Oikawa jerked back with a scandalized gasp, clutching his chest as he grinned. “You  _ wound _ me, Hajime! Besides, you’d do the same for Godzilla!” 

Iwaizumi hummed and reached out, settled his hands on Oikawa’s hips and pulled him close, dragged him down until they spilled onto his bed, tangled up and pressed close together, one arm wrapped tight around Oikawa while he buried his face into his solid, warm chest. “Maybe…” he mumbled, “But it wouldn’t be the same.” 

Long fingers buried themselves into his hair, tugged gently as Oikawa managed a soft laugh. “Agreed. Nothing’s quite like you. Now… have you eaten?” Iwaizumi grunted. Hugged Oikawa a little tighter. His boyfriend sighed. “When was the last time?” 

“... Last night maybe?” 

_ “Iwa-chan!”  _

“Shut up and hug me.” 

Oikawa huffed, but those blessedly familiar arms wrapped tight around him, pulled him close as Oikawa settled his chin onto the top of his head with a soft hum. “Fine. But I’m cooking for you soon, and you’re going to eat everything I put in front of you. And drink lots of water. And shower, because, no offense Hajime, but you  _ smell _ .” 

“Trust me,” he snorted, “I know. Just as bad as you did when you busted your knee last year and got depressed.” 

Oikawa prodded his side and Iwaizumi squirmed away, a soft noise bubbling up in the back of his throat, but a moment later they resettled, pressed close. Gentle fingers worked through his hair, down his back, chasing away tension that sat heavy in his muscles, down to the very core of his body, and, slowly, Iwaizumi could feel himself going limp beneath the Oikawa’s touches. His hands tightened on Oikawa’s chest, on his back, and he shifted a little closer, eyes fluttering shut. 

The waters, frigid and dark, had receded, no longer threatening to drag him under and fill his lungs, choke him, leave him gasping and clawing for air until he drowned beneath their might. They were still there, waiting patiently, but, at least for now, they’d quieted themselves, ceased to lap at him, teasing him with insecurities and doubts and a thousand other things. It was still there, cloying and thick in his chest and throat, but it was a little easier to breathe, even with the gritty ache in his eyes and the heaviness in his body. His fingers twitched. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled. 

“Of course,” Oikawa whispered, tugging gently at his hair. “I’m here for you. Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment and hit me up at [fairylights101writes](http://fairylights101writes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
